


Et Tu, Staircase?

by acareeroutofrobbingbanks



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cutesy, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, No Sex, gay slur, hurt!patrick, this only took me like an hour, warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 12:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3250121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acareeroutofrobbingbanks/pseuds/acareeroutofrobbingbanks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick's short and gay and has a dorky haircut. Pete has to come to his defense sometimes.<br/>Just a dumb fluffy idea I got from my friend who said her married next door neighbors met when one of them was pushed down a flight of stairs, and his now husband carried him all the way to the nurse's office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Et Tu, Staircase?

Even though he was dead set on not being late to class today, Pete couldn’t help turning around out of curiosity when he heard the disturbance on the stairwell above him. A crowd of students were jeering and laughing, and he heard some kid yell loudly. One jeer came out louder than the others, and the kid shouted in indignation, then was tumbling down an entire flight of stairs, head over backpack. It looked like his head thunked against the linoleum in at least one place, and the kid wasn’t moving by the time he collapsed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, right next to Pete.

“Holy shit,” Pete said, kneeling down next to the guy, moving his head so he could see into his face. He slowly opened his eyes, instantly looking away when he saw Pete, and Pete could tell there were tears welling up in his eyes.

“Did you fall?” Pete asked, and the guy snorted, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“I’m five feet tall and gay: I was pushed.” Pete wasn’t sure if he grimaced at the news, or the fact that this guy sounded so matter of fact about it. He looked young. And kind of cute, if you looked past the dorky haircut.

“Are you okay?” Pete asked, and the kid, despite lying on the ground with his Pete’s hands wrapped protectively around his arms, gave Pete a look so withering that he recoiled.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied acidly. “Get to class or whatever, I’ll be okay,”

He tried to push himself up onto his feet, but he hissed loudly, and fell back down, gasping as he clutched at his ankle. The bell rang, and Pete looked contemplatively up the stairs for a second, then refocused on the guy in front of him.

“Ow!” he moaned, a few tears squeezing their way out of his eyes, shut tight.

“Come on,” Pete sighed, sliding his arms underneath him and lifting him up, one arm under his knees and the other behind his back.

“What are you doing?” he asked peevishly, still managing to look angry and almost menacing while he cried. He shoved weakly at Pete’s chest. “Put me down; I can walk.”

“Obviously not,” Pete scoffed, not even slightly disrupted by his struggles.

“Just leave me alone,” he moaned, but Pete gave him a reassuring smile.

“I’m taking you to the nurse’s office,” Pete said, “Just hold still, okay, it looks like you’re still in pain.”

As if to punctuate Pete’s statement, he groaned when Pete started walking, burying his face in Pete’s chest and breathing deeply.

“What’s your name?” Pete asked, making his voice sound cheery. He wished this kid didn’t sound so hurt. He felt awful, but he had to keep carrying him.

“Patrick,” he muttered, his voice muffled by Pete’s shirt, but still somehow annoyed.

“I’m Pete,” Pete told him. He stumbled a little under the weight of carrying Patrick, and Patrick moaned loudly. Pete chuckled.

“Yeah, and if you think that hurts, remember you were gonna try and walk,” he teased gently. Patrick growled.

“I bet you think you’re such a superhero,” Patrick muttered, and though his hair hung over his face, Pete was sure he looked furious.

Patrick didn’t struggle, though, which was good, because he was hard enough to carry. Pete was in sports, sure, but he wasn’t used to carry person sized weight in his arms. Due to that, it was kind of slow going down the main hallway.

After a minute or so of walking in silence, Patrick sighed loudly and wrapped his arms around Pete’s neck. Pete felt a little pang in his chest when he realized Patrick’s arms was trembling.

“Get a better grip,” Patrick demanded sourly, but he laced his fingers together in the back of Pete’s neck. Pete obligingly shifted, sliding Patrick further up his arms, and Patrick groaned.

“‘Put me down; I can walk’,” Pete said mockingly.

“Shut up.” Patrick demanded. Pete grinned down at him.

“Why’d you get thrown down a flight of stairs?” Pete asked.

“Gay, remember?” Patrick said.

“That it?” Pete asked.

“‘That it?!’” Patrick scoffed back.

“Well, not all bad, eh?” Pete asked cheerfully. “I mean, you got swept off your feet by a really cute guy,”

“Don’t flatter yourself, you’re not my type,” Patrick said, rolling his eyes behind wire rimmed glasses.

“So are you legally obligated to tell every boy in the high school that, or are you waiting for an angel? Because I’m everyone’s type.”

“Short as me.”

“Hmm, a bit taller.”

“Much more annoying than me.”

“Definitely not.”

“Weird hair.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“I bet I have better taste in music.”

“That’s completely unfounded!” Pete whined. “You have no proof of that.”

“I can smell it,” Patrick said, a small, giveaway smirk on his face that he was telling a joke. “I’m a bloodhound for bad taste in music.”

“Did they break your cute little nose too?” Pete asked, and Patrick glared at him.

They reached the door to the nurse’s office, and Pete stared at it for a second.

“Can you open it?” Pete asked, and Patrick sighed, unlocking his fingers and twisting around to open the door. The nurse sighed loudly when he saw Patrick.

“What now?” the man asked, and Patrick grimaced.

“Fell down,” Patrick said promptly.

“Uh huh,” the nurse said, not believing Patrick, as Pete predicted, though he did feel vindicated. Maybe it would be followed up on.

“Fell down a flight of stairs,” Patrick amended, wincing as he said it. The nurse groaned, and motioned Pete to set him down in a chair. Pete put him down gingerly, and Patrick still winced.

“I know there’s no point in my asking if you’re going to tell someone, but-”

“I fell,” Patrick said, smiling sweetly at the nurse. He sighed, turning away to grab something.

“Dude-” Pete began heatedly, and Patrick waved his hand.

“It’s the beginning of the semester,” Patrick said, by means of explanation. “Things’ll die down soon.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make me feel better.” Pete said, shaking his head. The nurse walked back over.

“What’s wrong?” he asked Patrick.

“I can’t walk,” Patrick said, teeth gritted. “I think I sprained my knee or something,”

“You hit your head pretty hard too,” Pete added, and Patrick glared at him. The nurse seemed to notice Pete for the first time.

“Who’s your friend?” he asked Patrick. Patrick waved a hand in Pete’s direction.

“Pete,” he said, and Pete felt his stomach flutter as Patrick said his name.

The nurse looked over him for a while, eventually declaring that it was probably just a sprain, but Patrick should go to the doctor just in case it was broken, as well as to see if he had a concussion, and he was going to have to call his mom.

“Do you want a pass back to class?” he asked Pete, and Pete shook his head.

“I’ll wait with him, thanks,” he said, and pretended not to notice the grateful look on Patrick’s face.

They waited in companionable silence for a few minutes, before the door opened again, and Jason, one of the guys on the soccer team with Pete, walked in, holding his cut hand up above his chest. Patrick tensed up next to Pete just as Jason grinned sheepishly over at Pete.

“Karma’s a bitch, huh?” Patrick muttered. Jason glared at him.

“Not my fault you’re clumsy, fag,” he said, then turned to Pete.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, much more pleasantly, and Pete gave him an icy smile.

“Just making sure my boyfriend’s alright,” Pete said, grabbing Patrick’s hand. The grin slid off of Jason’s face, and his eyes widened, but the nurse ushered him into the back room to bandage up his hand before he could say anything.

“Boyfriend?” Patrick asked dubiously.

“Do you have a problem with it?” Pete asked.

“I told you,” Patrick said, though he sounded much less annoyed than earlier. “You’re not my type.”

“I’ll grow on you,” Pete chuckled, and Patrick laughed too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments mean everything to me, and if you like longer stories and monster fighting, go check out my much longer work "The High Way to Hell", which I'm going to update super soon, I promise.


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